September 12: an extraordinary day

On 9-12-09 the Chief and I planted our feet upon the GREAT Wall of China...
I still get butterflies when I think of that day...
What an AMAZING site to behold...
Positively breathtaking...
A dream became a reality...
it was FINALLY our turn...
Really, truly, magnificently, extraordinarily one of the most memorable days of my life...


One year later on 9-12-10 we stood beside this little guy...
our firstborn...our Wild Man...the one who made us Mommy and Daddy...
Once again...butterflies...but for an entirely different reason...
Once again...an AMAZING site to behold...Once again...POSITIVELY BREATHTAKING...
Once again...a dream became reality...
Really, truly, magnificently, extraordinarily one of the most memorable days of my life...
(and for the record, the Great Wall of China is nothing in comparison to 9-12-2010!)

I have prayed for this day since I knew of his existence. The day our son would freely choose to love and serve the God who created him. That day came on July 27, 2010. Today was his day to tell the world. For most of his life, Jeremiah 29:11 has been etched upon my Mommy heart specifically for this child. It says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Today that verse became alive and active before our eyes. Thank you Lord for the blessing of September 12th...our extraordinary day.

Dear Wild Man,

We are rejoicing with you tonight on one of the most significant days of your life. Without a doubt, no life decision will be ever be more important than the one you shared with the world today. We are so proud of the young man you are becoming. We can not wait to see the plans God has in store for your life.

All our love,
Mommy and Daddy

Flashback: 9-9-09

One year ago at this moment the Chief and I were seated here...upon this very large metal tube...
flying about 33,000 feet somewhere above the North Pole...
While we watched Everybody Loves Raymond for the 25th time and envied every sleeping passenger around us, BusinessFirst treated us like royalty...I'm pretty sure if you take photos of your food in BusinessFirst...
and how much leg room you REALLY have...they automatically know you don't belong there. We survived our 14.5 hour flight without sleep, medication, quarantine or a need for the mini bar...
Mission Accomplished!

Our Ballerina Girl...

I have...

ahem...

Little Miss has been dreaming of this special day for most of her life. The day she would officially step into a pair of ballet slippers and become a "real ballerina".
I had...

ahem...

Little Miss had a great plan for her first day of "ballerina lessons".

New tights. CHECK. {I bought the wrong ones but she didn't know}

New pink leotard. CHECK!

First pair of ballet slippers. CHECK!!

Hair in the cutest little bun you've ever seen. CHECK!!!

Pink toes. CHECK x 10!!!!
Our little ballerina girl RAN down the sidewalk to "dancing class" as fast as she could. She paused only for a moment to oblige her Mommy (who was innocently bribering offering her a piece of candy if she would let Mommy take just ONE picture)...
Mission Accomplished.

Our Little Miss...

now officially our "ballerina girl". How did she grow up so fast? She is not happy that Mei Mei isn't going to be a "real ballerina" this year BUT she has big plans for next year. Coming in Fall 2011...according to Little Miss...the Womble "Ballerina Twins". I LOVE LOVE LOVE that my girl thinks that is possible. ;-)
PS: If anyone knows how to convince a four year old that it's OK to wear tights and a leotard without pan-ties, please let me know. Someday I'll be glad she finds that appalling, right?

First Day of Preschool...

Today was the first day of preschool for our sweet Little Miss. She's been counting the days since Wild Man went back a few weeks ago. It was "sooooo unfair" that HE got to go back to school and SHE did not.

Our little early bird was dressed and ready for school by 6 AM. One little problem. Preschool doesn't start until 9. She was bouncing off the walls all morning with backpack and lunch bag in hand. When you're four years old, three hours is a long time to wait for the first day of preschool to begin.

She was over the moon until we pulled into the parking lot. Then shy and timid Little Miss made her appearance. She agreed to let me take her picture with her new teachers but couldn't muster a happy smile. We'll settle for the nervous smile instead. Bless her heart.
By 2:00 pick up she was smiling from ear to ear. She had a fabulous day! She loves her new teachers and has a few little friends from last year in her class. What more could a girl ask? We're looking forward to a fantabulous (final--sniff sniff) year of preschool.

Meant to Be...

After my blahblahblah from yesterday, I thought I would sum it up with this...

Why?

A few days ago I was cornered into THE conversation. The one I try hard to avoid.

The one that usually begins in the presence of my children with "why".
Why adoption? Why international adoption? Why China? Why adopt when you can have children of your own?

From there it slowly moves toward the "what and how".
What is wrong with her? How do you fix that? What a lucky little girl she is...

Can I tell you how awkward this conversation is for me? With people who are genuinely interested in adoption, I am more than happy to share. Please hear me when I say this. If you want to talk adoption, I can talk adoption all week long. I can talk adoption until you no longer want to talk adoption. Seriously. Ask my husband. But with strangers? Stranger people who are simply being nosey or malicious, I want to plug my babies ears and tell them to stick it. In so many words. With a few not so nice words mixed in.

"What is wrong with your kid?"
"Does she speak HUMAN?"
"Why did you adopt one of THOSE kids?"
"Can you fix THAT so she will look normal?"

Each and every time these questions surface I am dumbfounded. Most of the time I spit out one of many scripted answers and we move on as quickly as possible. Other times I don't even know how to answer. I want to scoop up my children and run. I want to hide them from the world that awaits them. I want to hide her from the words of those people. Those people who only see her on the outside. The people who can't get past the almond eyes and the dark hair. The people who act as if her precious face is open for discussion. Guess what stranger people? It isn't!

So what's a Momma to do? I know. I know. I know I need to answer with kindness and grace but what I really want to do is punch them in the nose. Fiercely. With everything in me.

I want to shout and kick and scream and yell about their insensitive and hurtful comments.

I want to ask them if they would ask such questions about someone else's husband or friend in the middle of Target? Why is it any different when the questions are about a child?

I want to tell them that God's heart is to see children in families--children from China, Seattle, Guatemala, Africa, Houston, Russia, Atlanta or anywhere in between.

I want to tell them she is as much "my own" as the two that came before her.

I want to shout it at the top of my lungs...THERE. IS. NOTHING. WRONG. WITH. OUR. DAUGHTER! She is PERFECT just the way God made her on the day she was born! I want them to see her for the beautiful Mei Mei she is. Not by her hair or her eyes or her special need.

I want to make them understand that Mei Mei is not "lucky". WE are the ones who have been blessed by HER...not the other way around.

I want them to know we do NOT NEED THEIR APPLAUSE OR APPROVAL! Some seem to believe if they end their rude intrusive conversation with something like "Well, you are such a good person for taking care of her". WHAT? WE ARE NOT TAKING CARE OF HER! WE ARE NOT BABYSITTING! SHE IS OUR DAUGHTER PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

So the next time someone asks me "Why?" I'm going to ask them the same... "Why do you want to know?" I'm ready to see someone else squirm their way out of that awkward conversation (instead of me). Someday Mei Mei will take her cues from us. If we tuck our tails and walk away we are teaching her she has something to be ashamed. Something we shouldn't talk about. That's not the case. Is Mei Mei adopted? No. Mei Mei WAS adopted. Big difference. Until the world begins to see it my way, the inner Mama Bear will be ready and waiting to pounce.

One Year Ago Today...

These little letters graced the blog. It was the end of the paperwork and the beginning of the "Destination: CHINA" whirlwind. A lot has changed since that exciting day. A lot. Over the next month I'll be flashing back to many important dates and milestones in 2009. Can't wait...

Going Back to China...

Well, not actually the Womble 5 but it's as close to China as we're going to be for a while. After that title I'm pretty sure a few of you need to put your jaw back into the upright position. :-) Now, look closely...
What do you see?
Something familiar?
Besides the huge plane.
Think Jansport.
Lower left corner.
Do you see it?

It's the green backpack. The ole girl has seen us through college, overnight trips and vacations. {Yes, our backpack is a girl in case you were wondering}. She's even traveled around the world and for the next two weeks she'll be in the process of doing it once again. Lucky girl! Oh how I wish I could have crawled in and tagged along but I'll have to settle for a photo.

A photo of our beloved green backpack.
Strapped around the arms of our dear and precious friend.
Boarding an Air China flight for the 2nd time in her "life".
On her way to meet a new baby.
To witness another miracle unfold.
To watch another family grow.
To see and smell and taste and experience the place.
The place that has settled quietly between the beat of my heart.

China...
{sigh}
until my feet are planted firmly upon you once again...
I'll live vicariously through our green backpack...
because she's as close to that piece of my heart as I can be...

for now...

Back "2" School...

Wild Man went back "TWO" school today as an official SECOND grader. Wait! A second grader? Are we old enough to have a 2nd grader? Apparently we are. {Sigh} I vow not to be nostalgic. I will not blahblahblah about how he SHOULD NOT be in 2nd grade. I will not admit to being a little teary while walking behind him down the second grade hall. Nope. I will not. I will also not admit I was relieved to hear the bickering and sighs of boredom fade into the distance with each passing minute. Goodbye dog days of summer. Hello routine and structure for all. He has been SO READY to go back to school and see his friends. He really missed them. This year he is in a class of 17 but with only one classmate from Kindergarten. He was a little unsure about that lineup. Before school we talked a lot about how to have a friend you have to be a friend. He was a little nervous but by the end of the day he was telling me all about his new 2nd grade pals. He's going to be just fine. Like it or not, he's growing up (whether I put a brick on his head or not). I can't wait to see what 2nd grade has in store for our Wild Man.

First Day of Kindergarten
Wild Man and Mrs. Polka Dots
August 2008

First Day of 1st Grade
Wild Man and Mrs. Patience
August 2009
First Day of 2nd Grade
(Registration Day)
Wild Man and Mommy
August 2010
Unfortunately, Wild Man's new teacher is recovering from surgery and wasn't at school this week. We are hoping and praying she will return soon so he can get in a good routine from the beginning. In the meantime, we'll take it one second grade day at a time.

the Serenity Now Post Birthday Extravaganza...

A few weeks ago I celebrated the 3rd anniversary of my 29th birthday. Or was it the 2nd anniversary of my 30th birthday? I dunno? Anyway. As a gift to me, the Chief planned a little belated something special for me us. I've affectionately dubbed it the "Serenity Now Post Birthday Extravaganza". {Extravaganza...what is it about the word Extravaganzaaaaahhhh? It makes me laugh every time I say the word...ex-trava-gan-zahhhhhhhhh. See what I mean?}

Our serenity lasted 24 hours and it was the amazing. Spa. Massage. Pedicure. Swanky Dinner. Free Birthday Desert complete with my own candle (care to guess what I wished for--hehehehehehehe). One full night of uninterrupted sleep. Breakfast of champions (AKA Starbucks). Then back to reality. If that list doesn't qualify as serenity I don't know what will.

For those of you wondering. Yep, the Chief had a pedicure. And he liked it. And I can say that. Because he rarely reads this blog. So he'll never know I told the world anyway. Bwahahahah... (and he'll gladly tell any guy on the block that a spa day with the wifey is awesome and they don't know what they're missing).
A special thank you to Miss Amanda, Nanny and JimPa for helping the Chief. We rarely have any length of time to ourselves and after the year we've had we really really needed it. Thank you so much!

To my fellow shipmates...

Thanks to all who replied to my "I'm about to jump ship blahblahblah" post from the other day. I'm glad to know I'm not floating in this boat alone. I did not publish every comment because many were very personal but I read every single one. Being a wife, Mother, friend and _____ is hard work for most of us at this stage in our lives. However, a very wise friend and mother of five reminded me...

God does not call us to ride it out in the safety of the boat.
He calls us into the stormy sea, because that is where we find him.

So if you could relate to what I wrote, I guess we're all in the stormy sea together. :-) Again, glad to know I'm not the only one floating without the proverbial paddle at times. And as if Someone knew exactly what I would need at this specific time (thank you Lord), the Chief is rescuing me from the stormy sea tomorrow for a 24 hour post birthday extravaganza. He genuinely wanted to do more but as he said, "It's only 24 hours but we'll take what we can get." AMEN to that one Chief! AMEN! Bon Voyage my fellow shipmates. See you soon...

Defeated...

Have you ever found yourself there? In that place? Do you know the one? The place where it seems no matter what you do or how hard you try you just can't seem to get it right? I seem to find myself a lot there lately. As a wife. a Mother. a friend. a ______. It seems as if the past year has blown by and I'm still waiting (not so patiently) for the dust to clear. What I'm realizing more and more is maybe the winds I'm waiting to settle are here to stay. And if I'm honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I probably should not open open this can-o-worms but considering my man rarely reads my bloggy ramblings he'll likely never read this paragraph. :-) After 11 years of marriage, I can say I share my life with one awesome man. BUT. Marriage is hard work. Isn't it? Tonight we were watching the end of the Bachelorette (OK-it's trash-yes I know-but I love to watch the last one-I'm a girl-I love a happy ending-well, until they break up a few months from now but I digress). Tonight we were watching the end of the Bachelorette and I caught myself on the verge of laughter at their giddy-ness. Blahblahblah I thought. Blahblahblah. Isn't that sad? Then I wanted to cry because it wasn't that long ago that we were the same way. Well, I've never been thin and blond and my man doesn't speak Spanish and salsa dance but you get where I'm going with this, right? That was us way back when. And now? Now we're Mommy and Daddy. And we wouldn't change a thing. Not for a minute but it's still hard to be the parents of three bebes and find the opportunity to still be "us". By the time we made it to the end when they swept the "happy couple" off to Catalina Island via helicopter we both looked at each other green with envy. I wanted to grab Chris Harrison by the jacket and say, "They don't need a vacation to Catalina Island. Every married couple raising small children needs a trip to Catalina Island". You know what I mean? If you are a parent with children at home I'm sure you can relate. They say it takes a village and most of the time it feels like we're the only two adults in the village of Womble. Thus the reason we at times forget that our marriage comes BEFORE our children...not after.

Speaking of that old cliche, at times I wonder about the underlying meaning. If it takes a village to raise one child what does that mean for three? Do we need an entire zip code to do this thing the right way? And what is the right way anyway? As a Mom you give every ounce of yourself and in the end you can only pray that you make decisions that are pleasing to Him. That you raised them up to be children who love God and love people above all else. Some days I know I miss the mark on this parenting gig. Thus the reason of feeling defeated I think. They don't tell you in the Mommy manual that every time a new school year rolls around you will be just as nervous as they are. They don't tell you how you will pray for a teacher who will go out of her way to understand and appreciate the strengths and abilities of your first born. The manual doesn't tell you how to parent a 4 year old who thinks she is 16 (including girl drama and eye rolling--she is FOUR for Pete's sake)! The manual doesn't have a chapter on attachment, bonding or how to (graciously) reply to rude questions about the child who was born in our hearts.

Friends...ahhhhh...friends. You know, the amazing group of women I consider my "sisters" but I barely have 5 silent minutes to talk to them. Notice I said silent minutes because even when I hide behind the water closet door which is behind our bathroom door which is behind our bedroom door in our bedroom they still find me. And they knock at the door. And sometimes they bang. And cry for snacks. Or to go outside. Or to watch Caillou. And tell me I'm a mean-ie. All while I'm silently praying for my one daily phone call to the outside world which almost always ends with "Well, I guess that's my cue". Ahhhh...those friends. Those friends who I miss dearly but can't seem to find a quiet minute to catch up.

And ________. That is the blank for all the roles I should be filling but can't find the time to devote to them. You can fill it in. Daughter. Granddaughter. Volunteer. Nurse. Adoption Advocate. Name it. Fill it in.

Surely I can not be the only Mommy out there feeling stretched to the limit at times. Surely. Is there anyone who can relate to what I'm sayin'? Please refrain from the "you are a great Mom" routine. Mainly, I just want to know I'm not alone. Anyone? How do you keep it all running smoothly without leaving something or someone behind?

Today...

Mommy.
Mommy.
Mom!
Mom-ma?
Moooooooommmmmm-aaaaaaaaahhhhh.
MOMMA!
Can we go to the pool?
Can we have a popsicle?
Can I have some fruit snacks?
Can I have (insert any unhealthy food item here)?
Can we go to the park?
Can I play Wii?
Can I watch TV?
Is it time for snack?
Is it time for lunch?
Is it time for snaaaaacccccckkkkkkk yeeeeetttttt?????
I don't want to pick up my toys.
I don't want to clean up my lunch.
I don't want to take a rest.
I don't want to have quiet reading time.
I don't want to help with laundry.
{Child hits Mommy's broken finger and Mommy wimpers} Child says, "Well, maybe you should move your finger so I don't hit it next time." Ahem...excuse me?

OK, I'm checking out of this lovely Monday of motherhood. Love them and wouldn't trade them for all of Mr. Trump's dinero but they are on their own til Daddy comes home. I am now going to curl up in my closet in the fetal position and suck my thumb. Could someone please notify my children that whining is not allowed on Monday's?

Happy 10 months Mei Mei!

We've come a long way baby!

Happy 4th Y'all!

This was the best I could do this year. Food on their faces, Wild Man making crazy eyes and Mei Mei looks thrilled, doesn't she? She's still trying to figure out what the fuss is about. :-) Just for kicks, here's a flashback to 2009...
I am amazed by how much they've grown and changed in 12 short months. I remember snapping this photo last year and being a little sad that one of our little people was missing. Not this year! Happy 4th everyone--especially to our newest little American citizen.

Oh. My. WORD.

Dad Life from Church on the Move on Vimeo.

Mommy Rhapsody from Church on the Move on Vimeo.

I love this woman...

My Papa...

Today I said goodbye to the first man I ever loved...my Papa. I can only imagine the look on his face when he opened his pale blue eyes outside the pearly gates of heaven this morning. I wonder if he smiled that smirky grin and danced a jig at the feet of our Heavenly Father. Oh how I wish I could have seen a glimpse of that moment. The moment he traded in his 89 year old body for a new and improved model. I am sure it was a sight to behold.

My Papa was, in many ways, like my Father. He has been the one consistent man in my life for nearly 32 years. The one who called me honey-bebe my entire life. As a child, Papa made sure I was at church every time they opened the door. He's the one who made me get up at the crack of dawn on Sunday so we could pick up half the kids in town on the church bus. Oh, that darn church bus. I hated riding that bus every week but at this moment those days are some of my fondest memories of him. Years later on my wedding day he gave me away to the love of my life. He was proud of that moment and so was I. He loved my husband and knew he was "a keeper" (as he called him shortly before we married). Yes, he certainly was (and still is today).

He was married almost 62 years to my Meme. They weren't the ooey gooey in love kind but they were dedicated to the vows they took the day after her 18th birthday...for better or worse. In recent years Meme's Alzheimers has robbed her of her memory but she has never forgotten the young and handsome Papa she married all those years ago. Please pray specifically for her today. She is understandably heart broken.

He wasn't a fancy man by any stretch but he would have given the proverbial "shirt off his back" to almost anyone who needed it more than he did. That was my Papa. He was a collector of just about anything. I repeat, ANYTHING. He ran his own version of Lowes from his home. If Lowes didn't want or need it anymore, well, Papa did. If anyone wants to call A&E, I'm certain we would make a great version of Hoarders: the Building Supply Edition. What is it they say? One mans trash is another man's treasure? That was my Papa. :-)

My Papa taught me that education was the key to my success. No one was prouder than Papa the day Dr. Sauls pinned my nursing pin on my lapel. It was a moment he had waited my entire life to witness--the first in his family to graduate from college.

A World War II veteran, he loved to tell war stories to anyone who would listen. At this moment I wish I had listened a little more intently to those WWII stories. I'll never hear them again this side of heaven and for that I am a little sad.

On any random day (or night) you would find the TV blaring CNN. This man loved that channel because he LOVED politics. With a capital L! I always told him he loved anyone with a little (R) beside their name. That always made him chuckle. The man was a Republican with a capital R and he could solve all the problems of our great nation in a one hour visit. :-) That was just my Papa. He had an answer for everything and his answer was never wrong. Ever.

My Papa loved the Big Orange. If you are from our neck of the woods you know what I'm talkin' about. When I was a kid I always thought it silly when he said, "we bleed orange around here". Every time I hear someone say that line I think of him. I guess I always will.

He was quirky and he had his ways about him. Some I understood. Some...well...I did NOT understand but I think that's what kept things interesting. We didn't always agree. He liked to push my buttons and I always fell head first into his little "trap". I guess that's what you get when you put two passionate people in the same room. I think he just liked to debate for the sake of debating. :-) Countless conversations ended with "we'll have to agree to disagree" and that was that. My Mom has always said we are a lot alike. I have always argued my way out of that one but at this moment I'll gladly agree. He was a man who loved God and loved people. In that respect, I pray that on any given day someone who knows me well can say the same about me.

He was the one I had the most reservations about with Mei Mei's adoption. Truth be told he had many hurtful things to say about it beforehand. Thankfully I have witnessed first hand what God can do to a stubborn heart tainted by a lifetime of prejudice. I watched my baby girl, who was scared of most everyone and everything at the time, snuggle up in his lap. He was a goner from that moment on--his heart changed in an instant. If you don't believe God can change someone's heart, let an 18 month old Chinese baby snuggle with an 89 year old great grandfather. He did and I am so incredibly thankful God gave me that moment. He called her "my little black eyed Susie". It was a term of endearment to him so I let it be. His little black eyed Susie it was.

I am thankful he is no longer suffering. After six months of illness that is an answer to prayer. Knowing I'll walk into their house and his chair will be empty. Knowing my Meme and Mother are beyond brokenhearted. It's still hard to say goodbye to someone you love. Then I am reminded of what I know to be true. I remember the man with a tattered Bible that sat beside his chair when it wasn't opened in his lap. I remember a man who loved to help people when, by the worlds standards, he himself could have used a helping hand. I remember the man known to my children as "Meme's Papa". The man who loved to see their smiling faces every time we walked through the door.

I loved my sweet Papa more than words can express yet I know this is not the end. Someday, when my time comes, I'll be standing at the gate looking for the blue eyed man wearing a hat and holding a fishing pole. I know he'll be there waiting.

Love,
Honey-bebe

Thankful Thursday...

From Across the Ocean...

At this moment I am studying the words of a beautiful letter. A letter sent from across the ocean to our family via my Inbox. It begins "Greetings from China" and is filled with joy, sadness and hope. It is a letter from Mei Mei's foster family.

A few weeks ago I sent an email knowing they may never receive it but hopeful they would some day check the account they gave me the day we met. And now I'm reading their words. Some of it is lost in translation but I can feel the emotion in their words. I can tell that even six months later they are still so sad that she is gone. I can only imagine it to be like losing someone you love. One day they are here. The next day they are gone.

You see, they did what I can't imagine doing as a Mother. They loved a beautiful little girl for ten months. They gave of themselves to give her what she needed. Then they placed her in the hands of complete strangers and they let her go. Yes, they knew that was part of the job description but I can't imagine that made it any easier. They loved her and then they let her go. You can hear their broken hearts within their words. They want to know if she is eating? Is she sleeping? What are her living conditions? I'm here rejoicing at how far she (and we) have come in 6 months and they are going to bed every night wondering if we are feeding her or if she is safe? Can you imagine? As a Mother, my heart is so broken for this precious family. We are rejoicing in their sadness. It feels so unfair.

Today I am reminded that Mei Mei's life did not begin the day they placed her in our arms. Her life began 18 months before we touched her sweet face. Another woman an ocean away carried her within her womb. An entire foster home of nannies nursed her back to health. A foster mother rocked her to sleep at night--every night--for ten months. She knew that she loves broccoli. She knew that her little head sweats when she gets upset. She knew the joy of her laughter and the flash of her cheeky smile long before we did. How incredibly thankful we are for these amazing people who gave their hearts to our daughter without asking anything in return.

I know some day we will have to explain all of this to Mei Mei. How do you do that as a parent? How do I tell my daughter I know NOTHING about her birth. How do I explain to her that she had a foster family in China who dearly loved her but could not be her parents? How will I help her process the loss she has already experienced in her life. I can't imagine it right now. Please God give us the words when that day arrives.

And now I have to hit reply. Somehow I have to reassure these precious people that our love for Mei Mei is very real. I'm not sure how to do that but I will do my best to try.

(included in email--photo taken 5-1-2009)